


The Inevitable

by beers4fears



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beers4fears/pseuds/beers4fears
Summary: A one-shot about Poe and his big dumb crush on you.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader, Poe Dameron/You
Comments: 13
Kudos: 175





	The Inevitable

The hangover was absolutely brutal.

A ripping headache pounded at the edges of your brain, making even the simplest of tasks a painful menace. You’d known the bootlegged booze was a terrible idea, especially with such a full docket of fittings today. You hadn’t pricked yourself on sewing needles this much since you were an apprentice.

_“This tastes like fucking engine cleaner, Dameron,”_ you’d sputtered after tipping back the brown glass bottle. The smell of it wafted off your jacket sleeve, right where you’d swiped a dribble off your chin. He laughed - that wide, face-engulfing, shit-eating grin he’d always give you - and outstretched his hand to keep passing the jug around the fire.

You stayed later than you’d realized, mesmerized by the dance of orange light against his tanned skin, how his eyes flickered somewhere between overpowering intensity and ardent sincerity.

A waft of that vile hooch drifted up your nose as you leaned down to continue sewing on a rank insignia, making your stomach lurch. This was going to be a _long_ shift.

———

The walk from Supply to the barracks was thankfully a very short one. Your shoulders ached - both from painstakingly tailoring uniforms all day and the nasty after-effects of last night’s poor decisions - and your jacket still reeked like an Outer Rim cantina.

The empty turbolift lowered, sinking deeper into the bustling Resistance base. You watched the indicator light, blinking steadily down the level placard - _Supply, Maintenance, Mess_ \- one floor to go.

The cabin emitted a soft ding as the blast doors whooshed open. Poe stood before you, a steaming mug of caf in one hand and a foil-wrapped ration bar in the other. Purple circles ringed beneath his eyes, making his dark features appear even darker.

“Dameron,” you nodded, voice hoarse and tired. “Lookin’ like orbak shit, I see.”

He rolled his eyes playfully as the doors closed.

“Speak for yourself, playgirl.”

_Playgirl._ He’d started calling you that -- stars, who knows how long ago, and it still made your intestines tangle themselves in hopeless knots. You hoped your blood was too sluggish to leave any visible flush on your cheeks.

The lift ride was too short for any added banter. A few seconds later, the soft ding repeated, revealing the residential floor.

You were halfway out of the lift when Poe rasped to your back, “If you need a little hair of the dog, meet me at 1900. My room.”

It was as if the lift kept tumbling down the shaft, pulling your body with it, plunging down into D’Qar’s core so fast you felt weightless.

You nodded over your shoulder.

“I’m in.”

The last thing you saw as the doors closed was that wide, face-engulfing, shit-eating grin.

———

The nap was blissful. You slept solid as rock, dreamless and unmoving in your sleep pod. When the inlaid lighting began to slowly brighten, signaling your oncoming auditory alarm, you stretched and evaluated how much you’d recovered.

The ache was a little better in your neck and shoulders. The banging drum in your skull was more of a muted hum at this point. Did you still feel like you’d been hit by a land speeder? Yes, but maybe one going a tad bit slower.

Disengaging the alarm and sliding open the pod door, you shuffled out, swinging your leg over to the footholds with perfect muscle memory before landing softly on the cool, polished duracrete floor.

“Blazing hells,” Brynn grumbled, rubbing her forehead. She was still wearing her utility coveralls, but had exchanged her usual toolbox for her dopp kit.

“Brutal, right?” you commiserated, fetching your own toiletry bag from your locker across the hallway. “I nearly spewed all over a brand new set of trainee flightsuits.”

Brynn groaned, rounding the corner towards the women’s communal refreshers - a long, tiled space with several rows of toilet rooms and curtained showers. The two of you took adjacent bathing stalls, chucking your dirty clothes over the railing.

Steam filled the small cubby, opening your pores and clearing out your lungs. Brynn stayed silent, only talking to ask for some spare hair tonic - she had her own, but much preferred the one you’d bribed a rookie gunner into buying for you on a diplomatic mission to Chandrila. It smelled like minty balmgrass and ocean spray - clean and subtle.

She was nearly done fixing her hair by the time you exited the shower, wrapped in a tattered old towel. The Resistance made do with what they could - ratty linens and all.

“You spent an awfully long time in there,” she quipped, plaiting her hair into a loose side braid.

You shrugged, not wanting to call attention to the excitement stirring in your chest. Was tonight more than just a drink? You and Poe had a witty back-and-forth going for months now. Most people would probably describe it as teasing, like two siblings forced to bond on an extended camping trip. Honestly, on quiet days, this base _did_ feel like an idyllic hillside summer camp, but with more blasters and thermal detonators and warships and... stuff.

But to you — you’d definitely call it flirting. It was the way his eyes would linger for just a fraction of a second too long, or flit across the room to you during all-hands briefings. Or how he’d chew on his bottom lip, nipping the pink skin between his perfect teeth, while he listened to your rambling stories. It was the soft touches, the barely-there brush of your arm against his in the mess line while he scooped _another_ portion of nerf casserole onto his tray, letting you rib him for being such a glutton.

_“Gonna be looking like Jabba before you know it,” you smirked, rubbing an elbow against his side._

_He hummed. “You’d still think I’m sexy.”_

Brynn’s voice pulled you out of your haze. Her eyes met yours in the reflection of the fogged mirror, neck hanging forward expectantly like she was waiting for an answer to a question you hadn’t paid attention to.

“I’m sorry—” you said meekly. “What?”

She playfully rolled her eyes.

“Nevermind,” she huffed in amusement. “Just don’t have too much fun doing whatever...” she gestured vaguely at your towel-wrapped body, “... _this_ is all for.”

You smirked back at her in earnest.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Maybe it was going to be just a drink. He’d probably invited some of the others.

A friendly, after-dinner drink with the whole squad. Yeah. That’s all it was.

———

It was hard to breathe with his shirt undone so low. He blamed it on the oppressive humidity, but you knew him better than that.

Tonight was balmy - warm and humid, the kind of dense, thick air that clung and stuck to your skin and hair. It blanketed the secret spot you approached - just the two of you - far enough from the mouth of the base to not get caught with this homemade booze. He’d poured some into a canteen that was slung across his back, swaying and knocking against his hip with each step.

A large, flat-topped rock sat just off center in the calm clearing, circled on all sides by tall forest trees. The atmosphere was dense with moisture, making everything just slightly glisten. The sun was beginning its lazy dip below the horizon.

He took a swig from the metal container, grimacing as he pulled it away.

“I’m telling you,” he rumbled, “two or three pulls of that thing and you’ll forget how bad you feel.”

You took the canteen from his outstretched hand, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Isn’t this just delaying the inevitable?”

He let out a gruff chuckle, resting back on his arms. The veins of his forearms were prominent, pushing against his olive skin and the thicket of dark, coarse hair covering them.

You drew the mouth of the canteen to your lips, wishing you could taste him on it. All you got was that pungent, burning assault of alcohol. You coughed and sputtered, shaking your head as your eyes watered in the corners.

“Stars, Dameron, I swear you’re trying to kill me.”

“I mean I _did_ drag you into the woods alone…” he joked, chewing on his lip in that way that made you nearly rabid.

You shoved the canteen against his overly exposed chest. Whether it was an attempt to cover him or to inadvertently touch that part of him, you weren’t sure. Maybe both.

He took another swig, not letting his playful eyes leave yours. The sky grew a few shades darker, bathing the clearing in shades of violet. You noticed the light sticks he’d clipped to his belt and wondered how his eyes would look reflecting their cool blue glow, if you’d still be able to make out the crinkled lines around the corners.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” he announced, shifting to sit up straight on the rock. He folded his legs, facing you head on.

You shot him a condescending look, taking back the canteen for another dose of this garbage ass jet fuel.

“Are we twelve?” you scoffed.

There it was, that shit-eating grin of his, flashing over at you as you furrowed your brows in disapproval.

“I’ll go first if you want,” he relented, swatting away a buzzing insect.

You sighed, pulling a longer glug of liquor, letting it warm you from the inside out. Sweat had started forming in the dip of your lower back.

“Fine,” you wheezed, recovering from the drink. “Truth or dare?”

Poe feigned serious rumination on his choice, exaggeratingly stroking his chin. You giggled and nudged his foot with your own, urging him to hurry it up.

“Dare.”

A fiery spark streamed across his eyes, lighting them up like an emergency flare. You felt a thrill roll down your spine.

“Okay…” you squinted in concentration. This could go a lot of ways. Hells, you’d fantasized about being in situations like this with him - alone, pleasantly buzzed, sitting in dim sunlight and the hanging tension of _how far_ you two would take this.

“Com your roommate and tell him you’re not coming home,” you said, watching as his eyes darkened, hearing his breath screech to a halt in his lungs. You continued dryly, “Because I’m killing you right here in these woods.”

The dumbfounded, lusty look on his face devolved into a sheepish grin. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Fine,” he sighed, pulling out his comlink. “He’s gonna hate this. He hates me. Hey, Lon!” he boomed into the receiver.

He bit his lip, flipping the comlink between his fingers as he waited for a response.

Lon’s gruff voice crackled on the other end, clearly annoyed to be bothered.

“What?!”

“Hey, man,” Poe rubbed a wide palm over his glistening forehead, flashing those gorgeous white teeth again. “Look, I’ve got a hot girl murdering me in the woods tonight so like… don't wait up for me.”

You crooked an eyebrow, trying to keep your eyes from bulging out of your head. _Hot?_ Poe winked in return.

“Poe—” Lon tried to interrupt.

“She’s real violent. Like totally unhinged. Think she got possessed by some Sith force ghost. Just tell everybody I love them dearly, and don’t let BB-8 forget me.”

You both cracked into a fit of giggles, only growing more intense as you listened to Lon’s frustration.

“Fuck off, dude, don’t bother me with this shit,” he spat back, cutting off his com as he kept mumbling over how obnoxious a roommate Poe is.

As your laughing fit calmed down, Poe placed his hand casually on your knee to catch his breath. Sparks streamed up your limbs as if he were a live wire. You wanted him to keep it there forever, to slide the overheated breadth of it further up your leg, to dig his fingers into the crook of your hip.

“Okay, okay,” he exhaled, squeezing just barely before putting his hand back on the rock. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

It hadn’t been a shock to you that Poe chose dare. He had a vivid enough imagination, and enough of a mischievous streak, that you feared what _his_ dare would be for you.

“Truth,” you nodded. Best to play it safe.

His eyes bored into yours, searing hot and too intense as he considered his ask. You actively had to keep yourself from looking down at his lips, the dewy skin of his chest, the slope of his relaxed shoulders.

“What’s on your mind right now?”

Fuck. What… _fuck_. You swallowed a firm lump that lodged itself in the middle of your throat.

_What’s on your mind?_ His lips on your neck. Your hands on his chest. Your bodies pressed together on this slippery rock, naked and panting and curled into each other.

Your mind reeled through the million different iterations of it, the endless ways your brain could scream how badly you wanted him.

You picked up the canteen again, taking another sip. It didn’t burn as much this time, having thoroughly numbed whatever part of your brain disliked it. You brushed an errant drop from your lips as you passed the container back to Poe in offering.

He took another drink, not letting his eyes leave you. It was nearly completely dark by now. The edges of his hair blurred into the inky blackness of the forest.

“You,” you finally responded, voice a quiet echo.

Poe shifted. The muscles in his jaw flexed subtly.

“Me?”

The air was crackling with electric energy, snapping and popping between you like the campfire last night. You’d wanted so badly for him to hang around until the group cleared out, lay back with you and talk shit and just...

You nodded, drawing your lip between your teeth nervously. When the _fuck_ did you suddenly become bold? He stirred something in you, a courage that normally wasn’t at the forefront.

“You,” you repeated. “You’re on my mind a lot. More than I’d ever admit, so don’t get any cute ideas.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, and instead trudged right along with the game.

“Truth or dare?” you continued, not letting him catch on to how fast your heart was hammering against your sternum, or how every tendon of your body felt strung too tight.

Poe exhaled, looking down at the rock between you before igniting the lightsticks on his belt. Just as you’d imagined, he was still so gorgeous in the faint blue glow, uplighting his features from the bottom, making his full eyelashes look even more plush and dramatic.

“Truth,” he said, voice firm and decisive. Always full of surprises, this pilot.

You licked your lips, leaning forward to be closer to him, to breathe in the dizzying smell of his military-issue soap mixed with blaster grease and engine oil and leather and _him._

His eyes, brooding and brown, flickered down to your mouth, not looking away as you spoke. It was all the confirmation you needed. You took a deep breath, letting your next words drip from your lips like honey.

“What’s on your mind right now?”

His pupils, blown wide from the lack of light and the heady, pulsing tension, dragged back up to yours.

“How badly I want to kiss you,” he answered.

He didn’t lean in. Didn’t make a move. Just sat there, silently watching your reaction, letting his intentions flash like cosmic blue superclusters across the universe of his eyes. Your stomach plummeted in free fall, igniting a soaring adrenaline.

“Truth or dare?” he asked, hushed and hoarse, voice rugged and gravelly.

This was it.

“Dare.”

You didn’t hesitate.

Before he could get a word out, you crashed against him like a tumbling X-wing, smashing his lips into yours so hard you swore you’d bruise. He reacted whip-fast, drawing his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap, as he shifted back from the onslaught, guiding you into something better, something focused, like a trained expert piloting his ship out of nosedive.

Fuck, he was really good at this. He caressed your lips with his, parting yours open to run his tongue along the bottom, requesting passage. You let him in, feeling him explore you, taste you, swirl and slide along the textures of your teeth and tongue. Your fingers found purchase in his wavy hair, tugging gently as he bit down, trapping your lip between his teeth.

How long had you dreamt about this? Months of flirting, ages of not-so-subtle visits to Supply to mend his perfectly fine flightsuit or his totally functioning blaster harness, innumerable furtive glances across the campfire after hours.

All of that and now you got to do _this,_ get wrapped up in his muscular arms, straddle the V of his hips, feel his stubble scrape down your jaw to your neck and _oh, fuck_ — do that again, he’d better do that again. He bit a screaming red mark onto the vulnerable skin, kissing and licking over it, rolling his velvet soft tongue against anywhere that hurt.

You whimpered, pulling his lips back to yours to keep going, cataloguing and memorizing every tiny detail, recording it in your mind to play back when he disappeared on missions, leaving you to stare blankly across the mess hall until he returned.

Shit, you were so stupidly into him, so pitifully wrapped around his long, perfect fingers that you didn’t even care how pathetic you sounded when you pulled back and pleaded with him to sneak into your pod.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he breathed, nipping your bottom lip one more time before shifting you off his lap to slide down the edge of the rock.

You took his outstretched hand, entwining your fingers, pin-pricked and dry and desperate to wind back into his perpetually mussed helmet hair, and followed him towards the hangar field. It was quiet, totally empty save for an occasional mech droid whirring past. The stars were brilliant overhead in the clear night sky.

He pulled you to a parked freighter, fumbling with the external keypad and auxiliary power switches as you ran your hands down his side, kissing behind his ear, intentionally making his task more difficult.

He punched in an incorrect code and huffed, letting a devious side-grin work its way up his face.

“Having trouble there, Dameron?” you purred into his neck, dragging your lips across the flushed skin.

His hand snaked down to your ass, squeezing _hard._

“You’re making it hard to focus,” he grumbled, trying another code.

“You like it.”

With a beep and a hiss, the hatch released, lowering down to the ground before you. He pulled you in by the elbow, pinning you to the wall in a rushed kiss as he turned on the ambient floor lighting and raised the hatch again.

“You have clearance for this?” you panted against his lips, face already rubbed red and raw from his stubble.

Poe dove into you again, driving his tongue against the hungry cavern of your mouth, like his only option was devouring you.

“Nope,” he grunted, pulling you away from the wall to stumble with him towards the passenger cabin.

Pieces of your clothes left a trail behind you - his canteen, your shoes, his boots, the sweaty v-neck t-shirt you peeled over your shoulders.

“ _Shit_ ,” he whispered against your collarbone, drawing his rough hands up to your chest, molding his hands over the swell of your breasts.

He’d given you a head start by leaving his shirt so dangerously unbuttoned, but you still made sloppy work of undoing the rest of them. The dry, calloused pads of his fingers were blazing red-hot trails over your exposed skin, sliding up under the band of your bra, tracing down over your ribs.

“Having trouble there, playgirl? _”_ he teased back, just as you’d undone the last button.

You smirked triumphantly and tore the shirt from his shoulders, pushing the material down his forearms to reveal his bare torso, glowing with a sheen of sweat. He pulled you into the bed, molding his body over yours as his hands moved behind your arching back, undoing the clasp of your bra and tossing it clear across the cabin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, running his fingers delicately over the smooth skin of your breasts, admiring the slope and weight of them in his hands.

His thumb brushed over a nipple, pebbling the delicate flesh, making you moan quietly in the back of your throat. One of his knees snaked between your legs, parting them to press the breadth of his thigh against your core. His hard length pulsed underneath the cover of his utility pants as it rubbed against your hip, giving you a taste of what was to come.

You made out like overeager teenagers, pushing and pulling against each other, pawing at exposed flesh and covered legs, entwining and panting and rocking your hips together until you couldn’t fucking take anymore.

“Take this off,” you grunted on top of him him, fumbling with the silver buckle of his belt, grabbing greedily at the leather and metal.

His short laugh poured sweltering and sensuous over the skin of your shoulder as you worked, reveling in your frustration.

“Eager, huh?” His voice had dropped at least two octaves and it made your toes fucking _curl._

You managed to unhook the stupid thing and yanked his pants over the round curve of his ass, dipping lower on the thin mattress to pull them the rest of the way down his legs. You weren’t sure which part of him you liked more - his chest, the one that teased the hell out of you on the daily while it peeked from his shirt, or his fucking incredible legs, corded with muscle and dark hair, strong and leading up to his —

“Seriously? You go fucking commando?”

He smirked down at you, peering past the engorged, erect pillar of his hard cock. It was glorious and stood proud just like the rest of him.

“Something for you to think about… since I’m on your mind so much,” he kidded.

You returned his annoying little smirk, grabbing the base of his member and snaking up the length of his legs to lick a long, wide stripe up the underside of his length. Pausing at his tip, you flicked your tongue out just barely from your mouth, barely making contact. He cursed and shuddered beneath you.

“Not so funny now, are we, Dameron?”

He puffed out a stream of air, something between a laugh and a grunt.

“Just-- fuck, p- please,” he choked out.

You kissed his head, sweet and innocent, and blinked up at him. “What?”

He groaned your name. It was the best fucking thing you’d ever heard him say.

“Is this,” you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue down and back up his shaft to the underside of his head, “what you want?”

Big, innocent, teasing eyes stared up at him. His thick fingers twisted into your hair at the side, tugging gently as he pushed his hips up, desperate to be back between your lips.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” he sputtered. “Fuck.”

You sucked him in earnest, pumping him in tandem with your attentive mouth, letting him feel the slick wetness of your tongue and the soft lining of your cheeks, sliding down onto him until he hit the back of your throat. The rhythm increased as you went, working him up quickly until his legs quaked around you and his muscles clenched up tight.

“You’re way too good at that,” he panted, pulling you up the length of his body. “ _Way_ too good.”

In one swift motion, he was on top of you, sliding your training leggings and down past your ankles, thoughtfully pulling the openings wide to pull them unencumbered over your heels. Your skin felt like it was on fire, like he’d poured a tank of jet fuel over the bed and struck a match. His eyes raked over your body, taking in the sight of you, as he chewed on that plush lower lip of his.

He slipped his fingers up under the sides of your underwear, tugging them down, while you hiked up your hips to help. Lifting your legs up in the air, he continued pulling your last layer off of your body, not being shy about staring wherever his hungry eyes wanted.

You felt exposed and feverish and unbelievably aroused. Poe circled a hand around each of your thighs, parting them around his waist to lay across his hips. You whimpered, feeling so utterly spread open and on display for him, dying to be touched, keening for a reassuring word.

His fingers danced up to your cheek, stroking along to the hollow of your ear. His other hand moved to your sex, grazing over the soaked folds with exploratory strokes.

“So beautiful,” he barely whispered, before sliding his touch down towards your entrance, collecting your pooling wetness with his fingertips. “And so wet.”

You moaned, canting your hips to try and get more contact, more friction, more of him where you needed it. Slowly, he worked his fingers up to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with feather-soft pressure, watching as you let yourself be swept away. Stifled moans ripped through your ribcage, rattling against the walls of your lungs, exiting past your lips in stuttered, unintelligible drabble.

Poe kept looking down at you, his mischievous, wild eyes searing hot into yours as he dipped a finger into your slick heat, earning a sweet groan that worked its way from the pit of your stomach.

“Good girl,” he purred, gently rocking his finger in and out of you, working you up before plunging deeper, letting the heel of his hand press firm against your clit.

You were gasping, grasping at nothing but the sheets until you were reminded of his other hand at the side of your neck, cradling you carefully. You gripped his forearm, squeezing tight before grabbing hold of his swaying necklace, the one with the ring tied to the end that he never took off, using it to pull his swollen pink lips to yours and breathe scorching desire into his lungs.

It was fucking ecstasy - fiery and sweaty, dizzyingly maddening, euphoric and explosive - being with him like this, _finally_.

Biting down on his lip, you pulled a groan out of him like liquor out of the canteen, burning your tongue on contact, making your awareness blur at the edges so all you saw, all you could feel, all of everything was him.

“I want you,” you mewled against him, dragging your nails across the top of his back, rolling your hips up to try to grind your ass against his throbbing member.

He shivered and paused his work between your legs, pulling his fingers out of your slick heat to spread your arousal along his shaft. He teased you through it, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against your clit, making you squeal and arch up off the mattress in anticipation. You felt like a wild animal, trying anything to throw yourself onto the length of him, feel him sink into you and consume you, burn you up from the inside out.

“Okay,” he sighed, positioning himself at your entrance. “Are you ready?”

You fought a frustrated whine, and instead grabbed the sides of his head for another kiss, tugging gently on his dark, wavy hair.

“Yes,” you breathed into him, taking in a sharp breath as he pushed past your folds without a second’s hesitation, feeling him stretch you _so good_ as he slowly filled you up, matching your stuttered breaths with his own.

“ _Maker_ , you’re tight,” he spat, biting down on your shoulder as he fisted the pillow beside your head. “Shit.”

He pulled out a few inches, groaning as your velvet walls ground against him, and grunted through his thrust back inside - urgent and desperate to feel you squeeze around every part of him.

“You- you feel,” you whined, feeling him split you farther open, drive himself deeper, “ _fucking amazing.”_

A feral noise, something partway between a grunt and a laugh and a whimper, rumbled through his chest as he continued fucking you, rolling his hips into yours like a turbulent sea storm, raising the tide of your blissed-out, mind-bending pleasure until suddenly you nearly screamed. His fingers found your clit, rubbing fervent, concentrated circles against the hardened bud, making you clench and bear down on him as you felt everything begin to peak.

“Fuck, I’m —,” you sputtered, clawing at him for some sense of stability, some grounding force to keep you from floating off the mattress and into wild space, “I’m so close.”

He hummed in approval, nipping your earlobe as he kept hammering into your pussy, increasing the speed of his hand between your thighs. His other hand stayed cradling your face, his thumb resting over the high point of your cheekbone, held safe and secure and so close to those pillowy lips.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he purred, peering down into your eyes. “Cum for me.”

Oh, _Maker_ , you couldn’t handle that, couldn’t keep clinging to reality anymore, couldn’t do anything but let yourself throttle lightning fast off the edge of the fucking _galaxy_ as you came, clamped down around the searing hot length of him, throwing your head back against the scratchy pillow as he fucked you through it. You were whimpering and wailing, clamoring for purchase in the black forest of his hair, pulling him to your neck to feel your racing pulse against his cheek.

“Oh— my fucking _stars,”_ you whispered, voice shaky and lilting was he withdrew, shooting up your limbs spears of pleasure and loss and satisfaction and _more,_ you wanted him and you wanted _more_.

His mouth was on you before you could catch your breath, bringing your focus back to him in this moment, to the unbelievable need you both had been hiding until tonight.

“Again,” you quietly whined, “please.”

Poe made a sound like he’d been punched in the gut. He shook his head, peeking over at you with that wide, face-engulfing, shit-eating grin. He flipped your pliant body over, pulling your hips up to meet his as you flattened your chest against the mattress, lower belly tightening with want.

He didn’t tease you this time. He sunk in to the hilt, sheathing himself in your quaking depths, gasping through this new sensation and how goddamned _wet_ you got after you came.

Your hands stretched out ahead of you, gripping around the edge of the thin cushion, as you squared and steadied your hips, pushing your cunt back to bounce against his pelvis. He shuddered and moaned, squeezing the flesh of your ass as he admired his view, watching his hard cock disappear into you, sliding out wetter and wetter with each thrust.

“Gods,” he growled. “You feel incredible.”

You bounced back against him again in appreciation, humming contentedly at the feeling of his balls smacking against your clit.

“You like this?” you purred, looking back at him, egging him on.

He grunted, deeper and louder, hammering his cock into you with even more rigor.

“You fucking know I do.”

He picked up into a brutal pace, slamming into you with his hands pressed to your lower back, arching and bending you while he drilled away, moving to steady himself on one knee as he drove even deeper, hitting the end of you.

It hurt, but deliciously so, in a way that made your body unfurl for him even more, opening yourself up to take everything he could give.

“M’ gonna cum,” he sputtered. “Where—”

“Inside,” you muttered against the side of the pillow, bracing for his release.

Almost instantly, he unloaded into you, pulsing and shaking and painting you from the inside. He was huffing, trying to get air back into his lungs, running his hands up and down the slope of your waist and ribcage, coming down to the swell of your ass where he landed a firm _smack_ against one cheek. You squeaked and clenched around him, making him grunt before he slid out, watching his spend drip out of your stretched hole.

“Don’t move,” he said, shuffling back on the bed until you felt his breath at the back of your thighs.

“What are you-”

He slapped your ass again, rubbing a broad palm against the searing red mark, intentionally splaying out his thumb to rub a few tender strokes against your folds.

“Shhh. Don’t move.”

His tongue pressed to your clit, undulating in expert licks and swipes, tasting your combined cum as he groaned into your sex. You swore and twisted your hands tighter against the mattress, twitching against his mouth as he lapped at you.

“Poe, fuck.” You sounded pathetic, ridiculous, wailing and panting as he continued, feeling his nose and tongue and fingers press into your sensitive core.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he gruffed, slipping a finger, and then two, into your heat. You rocked your hips against them, settling into a rhythm that you knew would get you there.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered between wet, open-mouthed kisses to your clit. You could hear the squelching sound of his fingers driving up into you, knocking against the wall of nerves that made you see stars. “I want to hear you.”

His fingers pumped mercilessly, twisting up and tapping against that blinding spot, timed perfectly with his velvet soft tongue. He kept whispering to you - how bad he wanted you, how gorgeous you are, how much he wants to feel you cum for him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, dragging your orgasm out of you, humming encouragement as he felt you shake around him, holding your hips steady so he could keep licking everything you could give.

With a heavy sigh, you collapsed flat onto the bed, curling onto your side as the world returned to you. Poe settled himself next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders so you could breathe in the undeniable scent of him, the warmth and comfort of his chest as he cradled your head against it.

You played with the chain around his neck as you both recovered. It was calm and peaceful, sprawled out on the bed of this empty freighter, listening to nothing but each other’s evening breaths and slowing heartbeats.

“Turns out I didn’t lie to Lon,” he finally broke the silence.

You made a tiny sound of confusion, tilting your head up to him. Poe grinned and cradled your head in the crook of his arm.

“You _did_ almost kill me,” he laughed. “Think my soul left my body for a minute.”

The two of you - as you so often did - laughed like immature kids at each other, beaming and happy, letting your smiles crinkle the corners of your eyes.

You traced your fingers along the lines of his chest, picking up and twirling the ring on his necklace in your grasp.

“You ever take this off?” you smirked up at him.

He kissed your forehead, peppering them down the side of your face to your lips. You could taste both of you on his tongue.

“Sentimental value,” he playfully growled. “I’ll take it off one day.”

You cocked an eyebrow, smiling into another kiss.

“Tell me when you do,” you teased, planting a small peck against his scruffy chin. “I think it’d look good on me.”

Poe exhaled a quiet laugh, looking at you like you’d wished he would for so long. He shook his head lightheartedly and rolled on top of you, cradling your head in his broad hands.

“I bet it would.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the uninitiated, the ring on his necklace belonged to his mother. He’s waiting to give it to a special someone, one day.


End file.
